Only in Jerusalem

Despite my mother's warning, I spoke to a stranger and had one of the most powerful experiences of my life.

I had spent close to two months traveling around Israel; experiencing the food, the culture, and from time to time, even the wrath of an angry local unable to comprehend my English. I was on high alert, after having been approached by what I suspected was a terrorist in the central bus station, who turned out to be an overly friendly local looking for a new "friend." This encounter aside, I felt immersed in the culture and met some extremely interesting and entertaining people throughout my journey. However, none were as thought provoking as the family I was soon to meet, Rabbi Yossi and Hindle Swerdluv.

It was Friday night and the sun was setting on the walls on the Old City of Jerusalem. The famous Dome of the Rock shone in the background as the rays gently touched upon its surface, radiating their fiery glow. This was my last weekend in Israel, and it was important to me to spend one Shabbat in the holiest city in the world.

I was lucky enough to share the experience with thousands of others surrounding me from all walks of life, waiting patiently for their turn to pray at the Kotel. The Wall is the only remnant we have left of our once great Temple, which stood there thousands of years ago. Each stone wrought with centuries of history; they have witnessed the many sorrows and triumphs that have made this place legendary.

Yet somehow I did not feel the spiritual connection. The passion for the land that years of Jewish schooling had so desperately tried to instill simply did not fall into place. I was waiting, but for what?

The sun had set and the crowds began to disperse, back to their homes for the traditional lavish Friday night meal. The rumble in my stomach told me we had been there long enough. My friend and I were excited to get back to our hotel and prepare our own traditional meal of a simple grilled cheese.

As we made our way to the steps exiting the Old City, a friendly looking man brought us to a halt with a single smile. The man had a long grey beard and a large black hat. His face and presence was so warm; it was like welcoming a long lost friend.

Without any introduction he called us aside and asked, "Do you know how many Jews there are in the world?"

Without any introduction he called us aside and asked, "Do you know how many Jews there are in the world?" My reaction was delayed, as it was not the average question one would expect from a stranger. Nonetheless, the number came to me quickly, as we had just learned it that year in Socials Eleven. However, my response did not surprise him (I was hoping at least for a blink of acknowledgement as to my achievement).

He simply shook his head, "There is only one Jew in the world. We are all intertwined, connected and responsible for each other." He continued, "If you don't have a place to eat, nothing would honor me more than if you boys were to join my family and me in our home for dinner." I turned to my friend with amazement, and yet without a word, we both simultaneous replied, "Yes, we would love to."

Rabbi Yossi Swerdluv and his wife, Hindle, along with their three young children lived in a small apartment in the Old City. Without the financial aid of any organizations they had invited some thirty other strangers into their home that night. The Swerdluv's were a religious Orthodox family, and every one of their guests came from various different backgrounds, but all the guests had met the Rabbi in a similar way.

After briefly introducing himself and his family, Rabbi Swerdluv proceeded to explain the blessings and rituals of the meal to all the guests. He looked at every guest around the table, making us all feel the conversation was directed towards us personally. The Rabbi's next request was for each person in turn to tell a story. We all went around the table, some tales more meaningful than others, but all really pleasant.

One man described his meeting with Kelsey Grammar, and another shared with us the final words whispered by his grandfather on his deathbed. One young man even stood up and proclaimed that the kindness and hospitality the family has shown him changed his fundamental view of mankind, and that maybe we are not all inherently evil. In the short time that we were around the table, we all felt a connection; a room full of complete strangers had become a family.

The meal continued; plate after plate arrived with the most delicious foods accompanied by laughter and song. From the sound outside, the chatter and laughter of the table must have sounded like that of an army of thousands. The noise however, was silenced in an instant with the gentle quiet sobs and tears flowing down the face of the Rabbi's wife.

Everything seemed to freeze, suspended in time, for no one dared to interrupt her. She wiped her eyes and stood up to explain that her tears were those of joy. When her father had passed away she had made him a promise. She promised him that every Shabbat, her family would welcome one guest to their table in his honor. It has been years since his passing, and now they had more people in their home, more family, than ever before. The greatest joy for the Swerdluv family is, week after week, seeing faces that they do not recognize and, by the end of dinner, faces they will never forget.

Everything else seemed to fall perfectly into place, and I was able to make sense of all my questions.

I had found it, exactly what I was looking for. I did not need a religious experience or epiphany. I had a human experience and this to me was the most real. Everything else seemed to fall perfectly into place, and I was able to make sense of all my questions.

It gave the Kotel all the meaning in the world to me. The benevolence and true compassion that was shown to me by these strangers completed my trip to Israel, and it completed me. In those three short hours in the company of those unfamiliar faces, I learned the true definition of equality. My time had come to depart, but I would leave with far more than a full stomach. We were all brought together under the Swerdluv roof; their compassion and kindness could never be forgotten by anyone at the table.

His smile was certainly contagious, and with each new week more strangers will have the privilege to be infected.

I have been inspired to continue my studies in Israel in the coming year, thanks to the Swerdluv family. I hope to gain a better understanding and deep appreciation for Israel and my Jewish roots. I received such a small taste of the many mysteries Israel has to offer, and I can't wait to get more. With so much anti-Semitism in the world today, I feel it is our duty to support our homeland with all our hearts. As Jews, if we don't remember where we came from, its gives the rest of the world the ability to forget.

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About the Author

Jesse Friedland is a 12th grade student at King David High School in Vancouver,Canada, BC. He emigrated from South Africa to Canada in the 7th grade. This was his first time in Israel (Young Judea Bilium summer 2007 program). He has been a member of NCSY (National Conference of Synagogue Youth) since the 8th grade and is now president of the Vancouver chapter.

Visitor Comments: 16

Thanks for sharing this story. I think it is really interesting to read about this stuff. I think this was a very powerful story. http://www.qualityhomestaffing.com

(15)
Lynn Fisher,
December 27, 2007 2:15 AM

HEART WARMING

Jesse - not only was the article so very well written, it was an inspiration to read. My body was covered in goose bumps. Thank you for sharing your story and telling the world about the Swerdlovs. I am proud to know you!!!!

(14)
Reb. Doris Feinstein,
December 23, 2007 9:23 PM

We are one

It truly was a kiddush Hashem (santification of G-ds name to read about such wonderful, loving and givingpeople. This is what will bringMoshiach. Chesed we must run to doevery day of our lives.

(13)
Yehudis,
December 20, 2007 1:22 PM

It's their mission

The Swerdlovs are Chabad emissaries whose mission it is to reach out to every Jew.

(12)
Esther,
December 20, 2007 1:00 PM

Dear Jesse,I had tears in my eyes as I read your article. You reminded me of the powerful effects that kindness and sincere caring/emotion can have on another. May Hashem give us the strength to see and feel that each day. Thank you.

(11)
IreneJ,
December 19, 2007 4:47 PM

Wonderful experience!

I too had the chance to meet wonderful hosts when I traveled to Israel in 2004. Lucky me.

(10)
Shaina Worthman,
December 18, 2007 12:22 PM

please do a follow-up

Hi JesseThank you so much for sharing this with us. It was a beautiful, well-written article that penetrated my heart. Please do a follow-up in a year to let us know how and what you are doing. After reading this article, I feel I know you.Thanks

(9)
sjhepner,
December 18, 2007 12:33 AM

WHAT PLACE IS THIS..!!??

WHAT tine and place is this..!!??Friday sunset the sabbath day t"is!No work, mo aimless bidkering..the Shabbath candles so illuminating and flickering..

and all the blessings and all the graces with thamks giving to Ha Shem from delighted faces..

Si sweet Shabbat, with its time and space.yet once again bestows its grace...

Shabbat is truly a gem..

Thank you Ha Shem...

(8)
yehoshua,
December 17, 2007 9:11 PM

THIS is the spirit of the jewish people

may H' bless and strengthen r'yossi and his family to continue. and shekoach for the author for being so receptive...he doesn't know how many people are warmed and encouraged by his piece.

(7)
shoshana,
December 17, 2007 5:16 AM

women are invited too

Thanks a lot for sharing this experience with all of us. It seems to be an incredible family - and I really donÂ´t know how uch families do for the cooking, without knowing for how much people. I live in germany, and had thank G-d guests once in a while, but at least I was prepared. The first time, we had 2 guests and we ate on the laundry "table", since we didnÂ´t have a real table yet after our wedding, and the second time the tchulent was burnt and I had to open cans of tuna, hum. The maximum I had when two bachurim came from America, was around 10-12 people for shabbos, including 3 vegeterians who didnÂ´t eat fish either. I was 8 months pregnant and had only two days to prepare everything - including the shopping! But it was real fun. We unfortunately didnÂ´t manage to have a minyan, since it was "summer hollydays", but it was really nice.

About Yerushalayim and being invited at the kotel, first of all, I thnk more young men wander around and are thus "invitable" than young women, who usually stay with groups or seminaries.But I was once invied with another girl for shabbos to Rabbi Chanoch Teller (who taught once a week in neve YerushalaimÂ´s seminary, where I was staying), and even though he had 15 children of his own (I think his oldest daughter was married, but all the other ones where home, including twins and triplets), he still invited two women met at the kotel.

So you see, yes, women are invited too, but frankly, usually a woman is more organized and has already a place to eat and stay at night, no?

(6)
Sylvia Kimmel,
December 16, 2007 4:52 PM

Kudos for a well written story

A golden opportunity offered by the Swerdluv family and accepted by Jesse.

What an extraordinary promise made and kept.

I did not expect the author to be so young.

(5)
Harvey Ellner,
December 16, 2007 1:08 PM

one person CAN make a difference

This article shows how one man, with the help of his wife, can make a difference in this world. The young man who wrote this article was going "home," but this experience showed him that he was already "home." I hope one day all of us will live in Israel in peace

(4)
Salli,
December 16, 2007 10:17 AM

Women

Does anyone go to the womens side to invite them?

(3)
ruth housman,
December 16, 2007 9:50 AM

a luminous story of love

Thanks for this lovely story so beautifully and sensitively written about a family's largesse and great hospitality. I have to say this because it is so evident to me. I deconstruct language. Look to the name: Swerdluv. Is it mere punning to say that aloud, aurally, I hear, sweared love. Now surely this family is all about this and they do live the potential within the name itself!

in truth/ruth

(2)
Gary from Canada,
December 16, 2007 9:29 AM

Something similar happened to me

It was the fall of 1973, not long before the Yom Kippur war. I had finished my Ph.D. several months before and Israel was the last destination in my backpacking experience. I was staying in a hotel in the Old City near Jaffa Gate. It was Friday and along David Street (?) there was an open-front restaurant where I had decided to get a quick bite to eat. In poked a man who had just been to the Kotel and asked if anyone there were Jewish. I spoke up perplexed. He invited me for Shabbas dinner to his home in Mea Shearim. I was surprised to learn during the course of the evening that he was from Toronto like me. After the evening he walked my back in the dark to my hotel and invited me back for Saturday. He picked me up the next morning and we spent time in one of the small synagogues in Mea Shearim, lunch in his home, afternoon rest on his couch and Havdalah with a bunch of the men of the community and their sons with shnapps, bread and song. When it grew dark, I asked him why someone didn't turn on the light. Halacha aside (which hadn't occurred to a non-observant Jew as myself I admit ashamedly), he said they were holding on to Shabbas dearly to the last minute, it was so precious. I have to admit that I never had such a spiritual Shabbas as that one I celebrated in Mea Shearim back in 1973.

(1)
Robert,
December 16, 2007 9:17 AM

Only in Jerusalem

What an incredible story.

G-d willing, it's only a taste of things to come for the Jewish people!

I'm told that it's a mitzvah to become intoxicated on Purim. This puzzles me, because to my understanding, it is not considered a good thing to become intoxicated, period.

One of the characteristics of the at-risk youth is their use of drugs, including alcohol. In my experience, getting drunk doesn't reveal secrets. It makes people act stupid and irresponsible, doing things they would never do if they were sober. Also, I know a lot about the horrible health effects of abusing alcohol, because I work at a research center that focuses on addiction and substance abuse.

Also, I am an alcoholic, which means that if I drink, very bad things happen. I have not had a drink in 22 years, and I have no intention of starting now. Surely there must be instances where a person is excused from the obligation to drink. I don't see how Judaism could ever promote the idea of getting drunk. It just doesn't seem right.

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Putting aside for a moment all the spiritual and philosophical reasons for getting drunk on Purim, this remains an issue of common sense. Of course, teenagers should be warned of the dangers of acute alcohol ingestion. Of course, nobody should drink and drive. Of course, nobody should become so drunk to the point of negligence in performing mitzvot. And of course, a recovering alcoholic should not partake of alcohol on Purim.

Indeed, the Code of Jewish Law explicitly says that if one suspects the drinking may affect him negatively, then he should NOT drink.

Getting drunk on Purim is actually one of the most difficult mitzvot to do correctly. A person should only drink if it will lead to positive spiritual results - e.g. under the loosening affect of the alcohol, greater awareness will surface of the love for God and Torah found deep in the heart. (Perhaps if we were on a higher spiritual level, we wouldn't need to get drunk!)

Yet the Talmud still speaks of an obligation on Purim of "not knowing the difference between Blessed is Mordechai and Cursed is Haman." How then should a person who doesn't drink get the point of “not knowing”? Simple - just go to sleep! (Rama - OC 695:2)

All this applies to individuals. But the question remains - does drinking on Purim adversely affect the collective social health of the Jewish community?

The aversion to alcoholism is engrained into Jewish consciousness from a number of Biblical and Talmudic sources. There are the rebuking words of prophets - Isaiah 28:1, Hosea 3:1 with Rashi, and Amos 6:6, and the Zohar says that "The wicked stray after wine" (Midrash Ne'alam Parshat Vayera).

It is well known that the rate of alcoholism among Jews has historically been very low. Numerous medical, psychological and sociological studies have confirmed this. The connection between Judaism and sobriety is so evident, that the following conversation is reported by Lawrence Kelemen in "Permission to Receive":

When Dr. Mark Keller, editor of the Quarterly Journal of Studies on Alcohol, commented that "practically all Jews do drink, and yet all the world knows that Jews hardly ever become alcoholics," his colleague, Dr. Howard Haggard, director of Yale's Laboratory of Applied Physiology, jokingly proposed converting alcoholics to the Jewish religion in order to immerse them in a culture with healthy attitudes toward drinking!

Perhaps we could suggest that it is precisely because of the use of alcohol in traditional ceremonies (Kiddush, Bris, Purim, etc.), that Jews experience such low rates of alcoholism. This ceremonial usage may actually act like an inoculation - i.e. injecting a safe amount that keeps the disease away.

Of course, as we said earlier, all this needs to be monitored with good common sense. Yet in my personal experience - having been in the company of Torah scholars who were totally drunk on Purim - they acted with extreme gentleness and joy. Amid the Jewish songs and beautiful words of Torah, every year the event is, for me, very special.

Adar 12 marks the dedication of Herod's renovations on the second Holy Temple in Jerusalem in 11 BCE. Herod was king of Judea in the first century BCE who constructed grand projects like the fortresses at Masada and Herodium, the city of Caesarea, and fortifications around the old city of Jerusalem. The most ambitious of Herod's projects was the re-building of the Temple, which was in disrepair after standing over 300 years. Herod's renovations included a huge man-made platform that remains today the largest man-made platform in the world. It took 10,000 men 10 years just to build the retaining walls around the Temple Mount; the Western Wall that we know today is part of that retaining wall. The Temple itself was a phenomenal site, covered in gold and marble. As the Talmud says, "He who has not seen Herod's building, has never in his life seen a truly grand building."

Some people gauge the value of themselves by what they own. But in reality, the entire concept of ownership of possessions is based on an illusion. When you obtain a material object, it does not become part of you. Ownership is merely your right to use specific objects whenever you wish.

How unfortunate is the person who has an ambition to cleave to something impossible to cleave to! Such a person will not obtain what he desires and will experience suffering.

Fortunate is the person whose ambition it is to acquire personal growth that is independent of external factors. Such a person will lead a happy and rewarding life.

With exercising patience you could have saved yourself 400 zuzim (Berachos 20a).

This Talmudic proverb arose from a case where someone was fined 400 zuzim because he acted in undue haste and insulted some one.

I was once pulling into a parking lot. Since I was a bit late for an important appointment, I was terribly annoyed that the lead car in the procession was creeping at a snail's pace. The driver immediately in front of me was showing his impatience by sounding his horn. In my aggravation, I wanted to join him, but I saw no real purpose in adding to the cacophony.

When the lead driver finally pulled into a parking space, I saw a wheelchair symbol on his rear license plate. He was handicapped and was obviously in need of the nearest parking space. I felt bad that I had harbored such hostile feelings about him, but was gratified that I had not sounded my horn, because then I would really have felt guilty for my lack of consideration.

This incident has helped me to delay my reactions to other frustrating situations until I have more time to evaluate all the circumstances. My motives do not stem from lofty principles, but from my desire to avoid having to feel guilt and remorse for having been foolish or inconsiderate.

Today I shall...

try to withhold impulsive reaction, bearing in mind that a hasty act performed without full knowledge of all the circumstances may cause me much distress.

With stories and insights,
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